


A Chronicle of Mugs and Sunshine

by melliyna



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-18
Updated: 2009-12-18
Packaged: 2017-10-04 14:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliyna/pseuds/melliyna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mug and a thousand and one stories of Sam</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chronicle of Mugs and Sunshine

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[character: sam seaborn](http://melliyna.livejournal.com/tag/character:+sam+seaborn), [fandom: west wing](http://melliyna.livejournal.com/tag/fandom:+west+wing), [fic](http://melliyna.livejournal.com/tag/fic), [ficathon](http://melliyna.livejournal.com/tag/ficathon), [pairing: gen](http://melliyna.livejournal.com/tag/pairing:+gen)  
  
---|---  
  
_**Fic: West Wing: A Chronicle of Mugs and Sunshine**_  
**Title:** A Chronicle of Mugs and Sunshine   
**Author:** [](http://melliyna.livejournal.com/profile)[**melliyna**](http://melliyna.livejournal.com/)   
**Fandom:** TWW  
**Pairing:** Gen (features Toby, Donna, Jed, CJ and Sam)  
**Rating:** PG  
**Word Count:** 1,100   
**Disclaimer:** Sadly, not Sorkin who is far better at this than me.   
**Warnings/Timeline/Spoilers:** Spoilers to the end of Season Four   
**A/N:** Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/tww_remix/profile)[**tww_remix**](http://community.livejournal.com/tww_remix/) with the original story being [The Coffee Mug](http://westwing.jenniellamb.com/coffee.html) by [](http://imacartwright.livejournal.com/profile)[**imacartwright**](http://imacartwright.livejournal.com/) being remixed by me. I hope that I've done the original story justice.   
**Summary:** A mug and a thousand and one stories of Sam

It's early late and they are watching Sam Seaborn slowly dismantle his office, the pieces of his White House life in to boxes. But the marks remain and for the moment so does the mug that made most of them. And so they all watch and remember, the tale that Sam is leaving behind for California and a different kind of sunshine.

He'd made a point of coming to her with breakfast, in those weeks after Simon was wrenched out of her life. CJ watched the sun streaming through the window, picks the croissant apart with her fingers and remembers why she loves Sam, as their fingers curled around that mug of his, which has always held all kinds of coffee. Not good coffee in itself, but suited for the times they needed to drink it; black sludge included. Right now it's just half decent coffee, the kind Sam brings from home for times like these - when there's sunshine and food and CJ was there, teasing him, stealing his food and feeling that she is coming back to herself, in arguing. But that's always been Sam for CJ - at the bottom of all the yelling they've done at each other, all the times he's made her want to bash his head against a hard surface; sunshine. They don't talk about Simon, but somehow with Sam she doesn't need to.

Toby watches Sam disappearing his office around him, but can't help cataloguing the fact that the marks of Sam still remain. Slight shading in the walls, from the Lakers banner, a mark in the corner from that time he'd thrown his red ball several degrees too hard. And the slight dent in the desk, from the mug. You need mugs, in this job, even it's just to hold pencils or as a reminder of the need to keep awake, keep letting the words come. So he'd slip them to Sam, resisting the urge to mock him about his habit of losing them every five minutes. Even if he'd never lost this one, the one that was actually an inhabitant of the White House. It's been marked by them - chips, stains and ink marks of a thousand and one nights, a few million drinks poured and consumned, not consumned and in one memorable instance, left to moulder, until Bonnie and an industrial strength cleaning fluid intervened. But Sam had still kept it, still carried the marks of their craft and their stories - the speeches, policies, positions and a million and one arguments over grammar.

Josh Lyman, Sam Seaborn. Coffee, a million and one arguments. Josh saying he only remembers the times he was right, but really, remembering them all, the right, the wrong and everything in the middle of that. Which was a lot more than he'd though, especially the one's where they'd both been slightly drunk. Or the one's in which Sam had dragged him back to his dorm room in one piece. Sam had always looked out for him, Josh had always mocked him and made sure that people didn't beat him up. It was a good deal, a good friendship. Josh, who is trying not to worry that he's lost it, just like he always seems to misplace much of his life. Never wanted Sam to become that, just another dropped object or person in the life of Josh Lyman.

If Josh remembers coffee for the number of times he had coffee with Sam and proved him wrong, Donna remembers coffee and Sam because it was what held them both together, in those days after Rosslyn. An anchor - two hands clasped around a warm mug as they all tried to process the recovery of Josh, tried to put themselves back together again. It's a strange good luck charm, but that's what it became, along with overlarge pyjamas. Because Sam knows Josh, maybe more than she does, but it's never anything but good. Good Sam, who knows the other stuff about Josh, the bad stuff, the you want to scream at him moments. How, sometimes you aren't sure if you hate or love him. And now, he's going, coffee mug, Josh understanding and all. But when she thinks about it for any length Donna knows she will miss him for himself, for herself. Not for Josh.

Jed Bartlet has three boys, three sons. Another family, another set of worries, trimuphs and tears. Another set of children, boys and girls to yell at, to comfort and to smile over. He'd taught Sam how to make Zoey a hot chocolate, one strange evening on the campaign trail, especially about the right amount of marshmallows. Sam, who was never clumsy about the things that truly mattered had gotten it right, delivered it in to Zoey and then promptly burnt himself on the still turned on oven. How he is still the only person Jed has ever met who could have accidentally slept with a call girl and still pushed CJ to the ground, but admitted he was scared. Who took betrayal so quietly, with a disappointment that made him sick but could still give that wonderous, brilliant smile as he sipped his coffee when they played chess. When Jed showed the pride in him he'd always felt. And soon he would be gone, given up to the world, mug and all.

It's been a bit of a constant in Sam's life, that mug on his desk. One of the few things that Sam hasn't broken, tripped over or misplaced in the years in the White House. Mallory nearly knocked it over once, Ainsley was caught glancing suspiciously at it, during a friendly disagreeement over something or other. But the mug was there, warm against his hands. And now, he's looking at the packed up remains of his office, the possessions of friends, family and past and present. All in boxes now, just like packing up from college to go home to California. Like college, he's almost sure it was a dream - this place, these friends. But the mug is there and going with him, and somehow, it's warmth against his hand makes it real.


End file.
